Scarlette Snake
by DemonicFairie
Summary: (GWDM)Ginny is ready to tackle the new school year (fifth) and this time keep herself focused with no more boyfriends she doesn't like, except it seems she's not very good with keeping promises to herself, though she ends up not too upset...
1. Another Summer Passed

** +ONE +**

** Another Summer Passed**

The day was promising hot sun and warm breezes since the moment dawn cracked open her clouded eye, and the youngest Weasley child slowly fluttured open her own, the pale, early light seeping through a gap in her curtains. She didn't move and might have passed away from the realm of living, but for the small, steady motion of the rise and fall of her breath, and her restless eyes roving across the picture she'd stuck above her bed on the ceiling, of bewitched movements from witches and wizards the snap shot had captured, the photograph magically blown up to about the same width and length of the pillow her head lay upon.

The picture was of a day as bright as the sun cresting the horizon of grass and trees viewed far out from her high-up window promised today to be. It was set on, or rather, above, the rolling green grass of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's Quidditch Pitch, a familiar site it was, for she would be going back to that school for her fifth year in a mere matter of days. The photograph though, was not taken to marvel at the wonderful job the groundskeeper did. In the air, high off the ground, about level with the tall stadium seats where students could watch the matches were fourteen broomsticks and their riders, plus the referee, Madam Hooch.

Half of the players were in deep, dark blue robes, the other group of players were uniformed in bright, brilliantly scarlet, these made up the team of Gryffindor, playing against the blue Ravenclaw's. Of all the players zooming around., tossing the quaffle, dodging bludger's (or whacking them, in the beater's cases), and hovering about, watching for the snitch, she gave one of them particular attention. She was slightly pale with bright hazel eyes scanning the air as she flew, dark red hair, slightly longer than shoulder length, framing her face. It began to fan behind her slightly, one lock whipping across her face, as she accelerated, faster, faster, faster, eyes gleaming...

With a pang, Ginny rolled over, and silently said good-bye to being seeker on Gryffindor's Quidditch team.

"Ginny, are you awake?" came Hermione's soft voice. Like how Ron would be sharing a room with Harry once he arrived, Hermione was sleeping in Ginny's room, and the young girl couldn't help but feel a stroke of sadness and, somehow, guilt and frustation at being so poor.

"Yeah," she murmured in response, feeling no reilief that a night's sleep was supposed to give you. She rolled over again to look at Hermione across the room, who had sat up in her bed, and took a quiet moment to look her over. Since she had first seen her coming off the Hogwart's Express back from school with Harry Potter and Ron, her hair had seemed to loose a lot of it's bushiness. It was softer and smoother and darker, a nice almost chestnut brown, and rather than hang a few inches past her shoulders as it had then, it brushed the tops of them. She was taller, of course, and maybe fitter, and a lot more leniant about not bossing everyone around. Ginny had thought she was nice, but bossy, and nothing special, just a simple friend, not a best friend, not a giggle and gossip friend, more like a cousin. More like a brother's friend she happened see a lot. Which was the truth of it, really.

But Ginny was an easy observer, and in the third year, around when Hermione started changing about breaking rules and other leniancies, when Ron started doing small things that Ginny noticed, and realized her brother somehow liked Hermione (which was probably why he always got so show-offy around her, followed by being defensive at her remarks, not that his temper helped, and then fighting with her, because Ron's a fool and doesn't know how to act around people he _doesn't_ fall in love with, Ginny had reasoned). Observing and understanding seemed to be the way of Ginny, and when she watched and listened and understood Ron's feelings, she re-examined Hermione, and realized, or decided upon, what sort of person Hermione was, and slowly a more solid relationship developed between the two, once Ginny ventured forth. She valued her as a friend, valued her as a person, saw inside her what other's didn't seem to see, or ignored. Hermione was a real person, with a real need for friends, with a real liking for thinking and knowing and talking, with a nice sense of sarcasm and amusement.

"Anything he matter?" Hermione ventured, crawling onto Ginny's bed.

"Nothi...well, just that, Umbridge is gone." Hermione looked alarmed but the expression washed away into amusement, as if Ginny was kidding.

"And aren't you glad?"

"Oh! Yes, but see, with Umbridge there, Harry was banned from Quidditch."

"Yes..." Hermione said slowly, drawing out the 's', knowing where this conversation was going. "So is Ron..."

"Yeah but...Harry's seeker."

_Ah hah, I'm right_, Hermione thought without any trace of normal self-assured smugness for getting an answer right. A small frown tugged the corners of her lips. "Yes...?" she repeated.

"And, well, I was Seeker when Harry was banned. And I mean, I'm glad...for the team...that Harry's on it again, and I'm happy for him, but that means _I_ won't be on the team anymore, and I really liked it, and a lot of people told me I was really good!" Ginny said in a rush, looking desperately at Hermione, as if she could help.

"Well..." Hermione said, for once unsure of what to answer with. She looked down at Ginny's pale blue bedspread and after a moment back up at Ginny, smiling sympathetically. "It's alright. Isn't their a position for chaser still open? And you were good, you can know that. And when Harry and me and Ron are gone, you'll have the position."

"Only for a year," Ginny muttured, with a trace of bitterness, but looked away with a sigh and a small nod. "I know, I'm just-" But the conversation Hermione happened to be itching to get away from was interrupted.

"Hey Hermione, Ginny! Are you up?" someone shouted, knocking roughly on the door. Ginny slipped out of her bed and yanked the door open.

"We are now!" she snapped, and went to slam the door shut, but he stuck his foot in the way, then his shoulder, and managed to elbow his way into the room. He blushed fairly pink on the tips of his ears when he saw Hermione and murmured a good morning, ignoring Ginny as much as he could while she stood before him telling him how rude he was.

"Uh, right," he said, and looked dumbly about himself, "Oh, right, I remember now! No thanks to you, Ginny. Harry's here, Dad actually went to get him! Says the Muggles didn't through much a fit this time, quite disappointing, I say..." but he was shoved from the room by the combined fores of his friend and his sister, who were jabbering at him about getting dressed, and got a closed door in his face. "Girls," Ron muttured, but left them anyways, to harass his Mother about breakfast.

About five minutes later Hermione and Ginny emerged, giggling about something, walking down the stairs to the Weasley's kitchen, where, at the table, sat a sleepy looking Ron and Harry.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed, beaming at him as she sat down next to him, Ginny on her other side. "How was your summer, Harry?"

"Alright," he said, plastering on a fake smile, even though he was pleased to see his other best friend. Sirius, his godfather, had died at the end of the previous school year, and almost in unusion, Ginny and Hermione recalled this with stabs of horror that they could forget. Of course Harry had been brooding about it all summer, and Hermione wished she hadn't asked.

After breakfast they all used floo powder to travel to Diagon Alley for school supplies and when Ginny wandered into the same shop in which Hermione had gotten her cat, Crooshanks, Harry followed her in. He watched her smiling sadly at a open, blanketed crate of kittens and quietly stepped up beside her.

"Do you want one?" he'd asked, watching them too.

"Of course I do," Ginny said simply, without thinking, watching one of them wistfully, a small kitten with moss green eyes and pure black fur, but for a dusting of red-brown on its chest.

"Which one?"

"Oh Harry, don't," Ginny said miserably, not wanting to think anymore about the kitten, about taking it home, because she knew it was a dream. She turned her back on the kittens and saying flatly that she should be going to Flourish and Blotts, now.

"As a present," Harry said, ignoring her aimless talking of getting school books, "for becoming a prefect."

"No," she said wistfully. "My mom said she would get me something, like she did Ron, and Percy, and-"

"Can't your friends get you something too? I know Hermione is."

"Is she?" Ginny said, her eyes lighting up. How amazing. She'd never figured such a thing would happen. The morning all their letters had arrived, Ginny held her envelope with a lump in one corner, and when she opened it was awed and faintly disgusted by a shiny, red badge with a bold black 'P' on it's center. Her brother had shaken his head, Hermione had bounced up and down with her raving, gushing mother, and Harry had put on a smile too, but Ginny noticed the subtle grief beneath it and knew what he had been thinking. Ron and Hermione had been named prefects, not him, and this had been found out at Sirius's house. "Oh but Harry, I can't accept, really, I-"

"I think you had your eye on this one," he said, completely ignoring her and picking up the green-eyed black kitten, brining it to the counter. "I'm going to get this," he said brightly to the clerk, who smiled at him, seeming a bit confused, and said, around a toothpick in her mouth,

"Yep. Thats a galleon and only six sickles, we're on sale today, we are."

"Harry no, don't, you don't need to, really." But again he seemed to ignore Ginny, fished out a small array of coins, and gave them to the lady.

"Oh, yeah, ma'am, do you reccomend any cat food?" The lady's eyes definitley gleamed a bit more as she nodded her head.

"Yes, I do, do I do. Anirup's Best," she declared. "It's near the back of our store, a sickle a bag."

"Another sale, huh?" Harry said, handing her two silver pieces and putting the kitten in Ginny's arms, he disappeared behind the shelves.

Ron actually looked faintly interested.

"Ginny," he said, sitting up straighter as he saw his sister and friend. "Where'd you get that?" Hermione looked up too, as did Mrs. Weasely, and both saw a very pleased looking Ginny with a tiny kitten hugged to her.

"This," Ginny said proudly, "is my new cat, Serena." The two had found the other three at a small outside table next to Florean Fortuscose's Ice Cream Shoppe.

"How did you get this cat?" her mother asked sternly, though you could see she wanted to pet the small black kitten cradled in her only daughter's arms.

"I've been saving," Ginny lied smoothly, having made Harry promise to stick with what she said, because she knew, and Harry had to agree, that Mrs. Weasley would become embarassed and tell Harry it wasn't necassary and have Ginny give it back. "To get her and two whole bags of food only cost about two galleons..."

"Where'd you get two galleons?" Ron asked his sister in a slightly odd sort of voice. Unless you counted the fake Leperchaun gold from his fourth year, from the Quiddith match, or the fake, bewitched galleon made by Hermione for last year's secret meetings, he had never held a gold galleon in his palm.

"Ron," Ginny sounded exasperated. "I've been saving knuts and I had a couple sickles. They added up to the same _amount_ of two galleons."

"I know," he said defensively, and stubbornly scooped about with his spoon in his empty icecream dish. Mrs. Weasley, looking slightly grim for a moment, shook her head.

"Arthur will like it, I'm sure," she muttured. "Any magical abilities?"

"Oh..." Ginny murmured, quirking an eyebrow slightly. "I dunno. I don't mind if she doesn't though."

"Mmm," her mother sighed, mumbling to herself, something about how Ginny's 'savings' would be better put to use for _needed _school supplies. "Let's go then," she said, almost cheerily, ushering Ron out of his seat, "we need to get you school books, dears."


	2. A Meeting of Three

**+TWO+**

**Meeting of Three**

"Well, well, hello there, Weasley," came a displeasingly familiar drawl from behind her. Though she rolled her eyes, Ginny otherwise gave no sign of hearing the voice and proceeded to ignore it's owner's presense behind her. "I know this compartment might seem awfully nice compared to your hovel of a house, but only prefects and Heads are allowed in here.

She fumed, her back going slightly rigid as her nerves sharpened her posture. Ginny knew her family was poor, but anger washed over her and defense for her her parents came rushing up her throat like bile.

"My house is not a hovel, Malfoy. And I _am_ allowed in here." She turned to face him, excepting to see him flanked by Crabbe, or Goyle, or some other Slytherin goon, but he was alone with her in the large compartment, lightly decorated with colors and symbols from each House.

"Oh, my apologies Weasley, a Prefect now, are we, following in Ickle Ronnikins footsteps, huh? Been kissing up to Dumbledore's pet lately?" It seemed like not only her cheeks burned, but all of her flesh, just slightly tanned from a summer on her broom, brightened a bloody, crimson red. Before Ginny could so much as open her mouth or move her hand to slap him, the compartment door slid open.

There were four Prefects from each House, too in the fifth year, two in their sixth, and most of them were coming into the compartment now, though only half were to arrive, the fifth year prefects, for this was a meeting for the students new to a fresh badge pinned to their robes, except for the Heads, and except for Malfoy. He was there because each year Dumbledore would select a sixth year prefect to also attend the meeting, another source of experience to the new prefects. By the time all of the others had slowly trickled in, Ginny had set her face and sat down. Suddenly remembering something, and as the last two came in and slammed the door shut (the Head Boy and Girl), Ginny leaped from her seat and knelt palms and knees on the floor.

"I know how great I am compared to you and the company you hold yourself in, Weasley, but must you really bow in public?" Ignoring Malfoy's taunt and the guffaws from the Slytherin's, she crawled forward slightly, peering under the cushioned bench-like seats and quite suddenly reached underneath one with both hands and gently tugged out a raven-black kitten with her.

For once, Malfoy said nothing, looking in the slightest surprise, which he masked, at the small cat. For whatever reason he had assumed Ginny Weasley to be down on the floor looking under the seats, it apparently hadn't been to find a cat.

A few girls cooed and reached out to pet Serena, but the Head Girl scolded them lightly, and the meeting began. While Ginny held her cat close, stroking it's back or scratching lightly at the base of her ears, the meeting progressed and ended, the Heads' having layed down the rules and given some advice to the new Prefects.

When it was over, Ginny sat back and sighed, closing her eyes, Serena leaning comfortably against her chest, purring softly. The girl heard the others filing out of the room, a momentary silence, and then the soft sliding and thudding of the door closing. She opened her eyes and was startled, then suspicious, to see Draco Malfoy standing in the middle of the compartment, wearing a familiar sneer.

"Weasley," he said maliciously, "I have a message for Potty, for next time you're fawning over him-" But quite abruptly Serena stretched luxoriously and tumbled almost gracefully from Ginny's lap, leaped towards Malfoy, and cautiously sniffed the hem of his black school cloak, stepping her front paws onto the toe of one of his shoes curiously. He pulled the foot back that the kitten was exploring, looking like he was about to kick. Ginny yelled and lunged, knocking him onto a seat and landing practically ontop of him.

"How loathe! How loathsome and cowardly! To try and strike a creature that did nothing to you! A poor, defenseless creature!"

"I wasn't!" He yelled, pushing her away and standing up, yanking his robes back into more precise order. "I was moving my away, I was taking a step back from that stupid cat! I didn't want it to scratch me, Weasley, cats' hate me. Don't get your hair in curls." He sneered, and then looked suspiciously around for the cat, which was no where to be seen, until he turned about slightly, and saw the little kitten sitting calmly on a seat cushion behind him, and shook his head. "Any magical abilities?" he asked, and actually seemed, if scornfully, faintly interested.

"I don't know," Ginny said, wondering why it mattered so much, him not being the first to ask her that question.

"Right," Malfoy said, sneer back in place, "I don't know why I asked, I mean, it's not like the savings of you and all your family combined could get anything worth more than an old stack of used books."

"Malfoy," she snapped, "get out," he was starting to get on a sensitive part of her nerves, and she couldn't stand his arrgant sneers a moment longer.

"It's Prefect's compartment," he drawled, sounding bored, "I'm a Prefect aren't I?" She frowned, and scooped Serena into her arms, pushing the compartment door and pausing in it's threshold, looking almost quizically back at him for a moment before closing it behind her.

"Hey, guys," Ginny said, closing another compartment door, this time after stepping into it. Four were seated there, rather than the three she expected. Hermione looked up from her book and greeted Ginny with a smile and an invitation to sit down beside her by patting the cushion next to her (when Ginny sat down, Crookshanks sniffed Serena cautiously, then yawned, which made Ginny smile, knowing Crookshanks must have been inspecting this newcomer and accepting it like Ron's owl, Pig). Harry and Ron murmured hello, trying not to get distracted from a game of Wizard's Chess set between them. And there was also another, with thin blonde hair and big eyes that were gazing faraway through the window...

"Hello Hermione, Ron, Harry, hi Luna." Ginny said, after seating herself.

"How was your meeting, Ginny?" Hermione asked, smiling.

"Oh, alright." Ginny said, uncertain about mentioning Malfoy's taunts, not feeling like getting Ron all worked up. "They just told us some rules and about how we shouldn't neglect our duty as new, young supervisers, and to remember prefect means privilege..." She said, sounding bored, and Ron grunted, as if in agreeance, contemplating the chess board before him.

"We should probably change into our school robes now, guys," Hermione said, checking her watch, like every train ride to Hogwarts (she also alerted them when to change into "normal clothes" on the trips _back_ from the school). The two boys seemed to try and ignore her, but she glared at them until they looked up and Harry grinned sheepishly.

"Alright, alright," Ron said, smugly taking Harry's king in one smooth movement.

After Ginny had left the compartment, Draco Malfoy had stood in the same spot, staring out the window at the scenary flashing by, for what felt like forever, wild woods, dark greens rushing by, scratches of pale blue sky, but only tangled snares of thoughts in his vision. He turned his head, looking out the small window in the sliding door, and then slumped into a seat, his head in his hands, a sudden headache throbbing at his temples, when sleep snuck up on him. He was alone, in what seemed to be Hogwart's very own Forbidden Forest. It was night, and a quarter moon shone high above him through the treetops. All he knew was the feeling of cold and pain and loss, of being completely alone amongst the twisted, baren trees, in the darkness, but for the cold sliver of the moon. The shadows shifted and a piece of them took form, moving forward, telling him he had failed...

He awoke with a start, the engines screaming as the train began to slowly come to a shuddering halt. Having no memory of the dream, for some reason feeling fearful, he leaped from the compartment and peered both ways down the hall, seeing a couple doors slide open. One of them belonged to a group of Slytherin's, including Pansy. She too peered down the hall and spotted him.

"Draco!" she called, "where have you _been_?"

"Pansy, if you needed to know, I would tell you," Draco drawled, masking himself in a familiar suit of easy Slytherin arrogance.

"Oh, I know," she said, meeting him halfway down the train aisle and sliding her hands over his chest and up to his shoulders, smiling seductively. He gave her a little smile, slipping his arms around her waist and feeling her against his body. "Draco, I wish I could've spent time with you today on the ride up to school..."

"I know," he said, a small smirk playing across his lips. She turned her face up for his kiss as she clung to him. His lips met hers and she pressed closer against him but he pulled away.

"Draco," she whined, but he shook his head.

"Parkinson, control yourself. Are you a Slytherin or a stupid Hufferduffer?"

"I'm a Slytherin!" she said indignantly, pouting her lips slightly and keeping her arms around his neck.

"_Slytherin's_ are cool and controlled," he drawled, peeling out of her grasp and striding to a train exit as others filed out of their compartments, the train having fully stopped. Pansy sighed and twirled a lock of hair around her finger for a moment until others began passing her to leave to train. She sneered at them and began strutting after Draco.

Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Luna struggled out of their compartment and managed their way off the train, waiting for an empty thestral-drawn carriage to come rolling up on it's rackety wheels. Finally, one came, but Harry was pushed past by Draco, followed by a struggling Pansy, who brushed roughly passed Ginny, and the carrige was stolen.

"Hey!" Ron shouted, scrambling for his wand.

"Ron," Ginny said, putting her hand on his arm.

"He stole our-"

"Ron, it's Draco-"

"He stole our carri-"

"_Ron_," Ginny snapped. "It's Malfoy, what do you expect? Besides, it's just a carriage, look, here's another one right now..." Sullenly, Ron ignored Ginny but stuck his wand back in his robes pocket, and climbed into the empty carriage that had pulled up, followed by the others, Ginny and Hermione rolling their eyes as Ron and Harry made fresh, grumbling threats about Malfoy.

"Where'd Luna go?" Hermione wondered aloud, but Ron ignored her and Harry only shrugged. After a slightly long, bumpy ride to the castle, Ron's temper had cooled and he hopped from the carriage, him and Harry now talking about the feast- and like every year, Ron was complaining about how hungry he was, and that the sorting had better go by fast, and how long do you think Dumbledore will talk for?

Ginny shook her head again, and shifted Serena more comfortabley in her arms, stepping up to the large, open doors to the castle, and after skirting the large group of confused, scared, small, and excited looking first years, they made their way into the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table, Ginny ending up inbetween Harry and Hermione. Much to Ron's pleasure, the Sorting Hat did not drone on too long, and Dumbledore's only words were reminders of the Forbidden Forest, Filch's list of banned items, and a welcome to a new school year and a good feast.


	3. The Pairings

_Clueless Bystander, thank you for my first review :) I know it's not that great, but I've never really written one of these before. Plus, I'm not writing it, sadly, as good as i could because I keep getting distracted since I already have the major events and the end planned clearly in my head, but not the things in between that have to lead up to events, etc. They're a bit fuzzy..._

D/C: Oh yeah yeah, i forgot to put this in the first two "chapters" but I know anyone reading this already knows, blah blah, i'm not Rowling, these are her characters, not mine, blah...

** +Three+**

** The Pairing**

Ginny woke to find the blankets kicked down at the foot of her four-poster bed and slowly sat up, yawning slightly, looking about herself for Serena, who was no where to be found amongst the mess of blankets.

_Odd,_ Ginny thought as she lazily got out of her bed. _Serena was there when I went to sleep. Hmm..._

All the curtains were drawn across the windows, muting the morning light, but it still managed to glow through the thick material and the room was hot, almost stuffy. She slipped quietly to the nearest window and drew back the drapes, pushing it open, a slightly warm breeze flitting into the dormitory. Ginny brushed a lock of hair from her eyes and turned, scanning the room, noting that none of the other girls were awake yet. Somehow feeling satisfied with this, she crept to the foot of her bed and quietly as she could creaked open the lid of her trunk, pulling out a fresh, uniformly black witches cloak for classes, a pair of socks and underclothes, and a brush with a wooden handle carved into the likes of a Gryffindor lion. Slipping into the bathroom for the Girls' Dorms' she stood before the mirror and watched herself brush a few knots from tossing and turning out of her hair, staring at herself questioningly.

Feeling refreshed from a shower and ressed in clean robes, her wet hair brushed, again, and piled and pinned up in a messy, but somehow perfect looking bun, she tip-toed out the door and down the staircase to the Common Room. It was empty and again, feeling for some reason satisfied, she went out the portrait hole and and made her way to the Great Hall for an early breakfast before classes.

The room was lit with a misty, mellow light that filtered down from the enchanted ceiling, made to look as the true sky outside did. She sat down at the empty Gryffindor table and a plate of food filled up from seemingly nowhere, scrambled eggs and white toast. Amused, Ginny began to eat, watching her glass fill up with cool, clear water. Normally, the table would be full with many different kinds of eggs and toasts and drinks for everyone to take their pick. Apparently, the House Elves hadn't forgotten what Ginny took to her plate every morning when she came down early for breakfast, seeing as all they sent up was what she would have taken anyways. Feeling like she needed to thank them but couldn't, she nibbled her toast after her eggs were gone and looked about the room. There were two Ravenclaws eating also, and a handfull of Hufflepuffs, but Ginny sat almost happily alone at the Gryffindor table.

"Hello," someone said almost behind her and something crumpled up inside. She loved eating a small, quiet breakfast in the mornings, apart from any other noisy Gryffindors. Someone sat down beside her and stole a piece of toast and she smiled, because it was alright, it was only Harry, and he wouldn't bother her, except maybe for a piece of toast. An array of eggs and toasts and marmalades and drink pitchers, sausages and bacons, homefries and hashbrowns and too much more materialized atop the table and Ginny knew this meant it was officially the beginning of breakfast and others would be coming down too. She grabbed her last piece of toast as Harry reached out and spooned some eggs onto his plate.

"Sorry Harry, I was just going to go on a walk..." He nodded and was about to say something when they both heard his name and Hermione, closely followed by Ron, came and sat down next to him, reaching for breakfast. Ginny looked up at the double doors that the Gryffindors would be entering from and saw another group spilling into the Great Hall. She turned and saw a noisy gang of Slytherin's entering also, trickles of each House spilling in from their dormitories. Quietly, Ginny disappeared in a growing crowd of students and slipped out through the main doors, standing on the steps of Hogwart's entrance. Slowly she walked down them, absently holding her piece of toast, towards the lake, were the Giant Squid appeared to be lazily floating on it's back, every now and then splashing rippls across the smooth surface. Reaching it she stood there for a moment contemplating kicking off her shoes and peeling off her socks, and walking along the lake's shore, water washing over the bare skin of her feet, robes trailing behind her like a large, awkward, black lilypad stuck to some girls legs, but the reasonable part of her brain told her she was an idiot and she found herself strolling across the grounds to Hagrid's.

Fang was outside and he whined and barked as she came near. Tossing him the piece of toast she stroked the back of his neck quietly.

"'Ey Ginny. Fine day, aint it? Fang, get away, she got nothing for you, now, go on." He appeared from behind her, his face looking slightly sweaty but pleased. "I uh, heard Fang barkin his fool head off. I was in back plantin the pumpkins for next month, Halloween, you know."

"Yeah, I know," she smiled. "Hello Hagrid."

"Do you want a cuppa tea? Got some nice bread toastin itself in there," he said, gesturing to his cabin.

"Oh no, thanks, that's alright, I was just taking a walk, I just ate breakfast." He nodded, quite a pensive nod to be coming from Hagrid, and gazed out across the grounds at the Quidditch Pitch.

"Harry'll be back on the team then, eh?"

"Yeah, Umbridge is gone..."

"Foul little witch. You kin talk to Dumbledore, you know, Ginny. Fine man, 'e is."

"Yes, I know...I'm sorry Hagrid, I should be getting back to the castle now, don't want to miss my first class."

"'O course. You tell Harry and them to come and see me sometime soon, a'right?" Ginny agreed and quietly stood up, waving goodbye as she made her way back up to the castle.

A couple of days passed by in a growingly-familiar schedule of classes; days meshing together in a haze of what was almost a week. A meeting for the Prefects was announced for that night and Ginny stared at the bulletin board in which it was pinned up with an almost mournful sigh. Ron joined her and also groaned, which prompted Hermione to come over, scan the parchment, and roll her eyes at them.

"What's so bad about a meeting, tonight?"

"They're dead boring," Ron said, turning to scan the common room for Harry, looking to play a game of chess.

"No they arent, Ron."

"They are," Ginny agreed. "It's about the same stuff every time. I'm going to put my things away." She murmured and shouldering her bag she headed up to her dorm, dumping it on her bed and scooping Serena into her arms. "I haven't seen you all day," she murmured, as the kitten yawned and flexed its tiny claws, relaxing against Ginny. Deciding not to go back down to the noisy Common Room, she moved her bag and lay down on her bed, curling up so her knees almost touched her forehead, tiny Serena seeming content to curl against her stomach.

"Ginny?" Hermione murmured, a hand on Ginny's shoulder shaking her slightly, enough to awaken her.

"Mmm?" Ginny cracked open her eyes. The room was dimmer, Serena was gone, and Hermione stood above her, next to her bed.

"It's time for dinner, and then the Prefect's meeting." Ginny nodded and sat up slowly, rising from her mussed bed and following Hermione down the stairs, the Common Room empty but for the two of them, and Ron and Harry.

Down at the Gryffindor's table, Ginny sat quietly and picked at her food, waiting for Hermione to get up. After what seemed to be at least fifteen minutes Hermione murmured something to Ron and nodded to Ginny, who sighed and also stood up.

"A meeting, Harry." Hermione said importantly.

"We'll be back in the Common Room soon," Ron added, not seeming as pleased, and he and Ginny followed Hermione out the Great Hall and down a short corridor to a portrait of a group of giggling ladies drinking tea, and Hermione whispered,

"Willow leaves," stepping back as the small portrait swung open to reveal the entrance to a room rather like a House's normal Common Room but a bit smaller, with soft, bellagio colored armchairs. The Head Boy and Girl were already seated in the bigger of these chairs and Hermione, Ron, and Ginny sat down also, just as more prefects came in.

There was Ernie Macmillian and Hanna Abbott from Hufflepuff, and Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil from Ravenclaw. After a few moments of silence mixed with pointless conversation, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson also showed up, smirking as the took their seats, Pansy pretending to have accidentally touched Hermione and was making a big show of brushing off her robes and smiling nastily, mouthing "mudblood" all around the room.

Something in Ginny's stomach suddenly squirmed. These were all sixth year prefects, was this a meeting only for elder prefects? Feeling very out of place, Ginny fidigited slightly and eyed Hermione who seemed completely unfazed. Ginny was just about ready to whisper to Hermione when the portrait swung open again and a couple Fifth year prefects came in almost breathless, very shortly followed by the rest of them. Now that she wasn't feeling so miserably out of place, Ginny gloomly sat back in her chair as the Head Girl stood up, clearing her throat quietly before taking a quick attendance.

"Right," she said, looking about at them all after concluding that all of them were present. "Dumbledore has told us that it would be quite nice if this year ran smoothly, unlike any other year for the past six or so." She paused to eye Ron and Hermione, and Ginny knew that if Harry had been there, the stuffy Head Girl would have positively glared at him. "We, the Head Boy and Girl, told him that would be quite pleasurable and we decided that would be our goal. Over the summer, we two corresponded by owl, trying to think of why things haven't been running as nicely as wanted for the past couple of years." Her eyes flicked to Ron and Hermione again but barely with pause, she kept right on talking. "We have realized that many prefects abuse their privilege of having a badge pinned to their robes. Some, if not all, of you favour a certain House or two, and are determined to find as many excuses as possible to punish other Houses, which is quite unfair." This time, her gaze paused on Draco Malfoy and Ron quietly tutted angrily when the Head did not use Malfoy as an example. The Head Boy decided it was his turn to speak,

"We have decided that each Prefect will have a partner, and it will not be a partner of your choosing...This year, what will happen is, every time you give someone a punishment, whether in deduction of points or a detention, and everytime you award points also, you must write down the date, whom was punished or rewarded and what House they belong in, and a reason why. These will be your records and reports.You and your partner, of course, will be from seperate Houses. Your partner will look over your report and if he or she thinks a deduction of points was wrongly taken, the points will be given back to the House. If he or she thinks it wasn't necassary or right to award points, those given points will be taken away. As for detentions- every time you give someone a detention you _must_ alert you partner and tell him or her why it was given and if they do not approve at all, the detention is cancelled. But, if you think you gave a detention for a very good reason and are displeased that you partner does not agree you may alert one of us, Head Boy or Girl, and _if_ your reason for a detention does happen to be a good one, you may proceed with it, but let your partner know we have given permission! Partners must meet and give each other their reports every Friday! Were you all listening?"

"Yes," the prefects echoed dully.

"Ginny!" the Head Girl said, picking a student at random, "would you please give a summary?"

"Of course," Ginny mumbled. "Every time you punish or reward a student you must say who, what House he or she is in, and why. Every time you give a detention you have to alert your partner. If your partner thinks that the detention should _not_ be given, then it will not be given, unless you complain to the Head Boy or Girl and they give you permission. This is all so that the school runs smoother this year and favortism will be easier to control."

"Yes, but _complaining_ isn't really the right word, maybe alert...Now, for the Partners. Everyone, up please, up, up!" The Prefects all obediently rose to their feet and the Head Boy whisked their chairs back against the wall with his wand while the Head Girl revealed a chalk board on the wall and transfigured a large vase of flowers into a top hat.

"I can't believe this," Ginny heard Malfoy mutter to fellow sixth year Prefect, Pansy. "How stupid, this isn't going to work at all."

"Attention!" The Head Girl snapped and the Prefect's all looked back at the hat. "Form a line, sharpish now! First in line is first, Hermione, step over here if you please...Gryffindor, right?"

"Yes," Hermione said and watched the Head Boy tap the hat and bits of parchment rained down into it.

"Draw, please." She reached in, drew a slip, and read,

"Ronal-"

"No, partners can't be in the same House, sorry." ermione nodded grimly and drew again and came out with Ernie Macmillian. The Head Girl asked her to not put the paper back into the hat and marked on the chalkboard, _Hermione Granger and Ernie Macmillian_. "Ernie, you can get out of line now...once you have selected a name or been seleted, you are free to go." This continued, with Ron being paired with Padma Patil from Ravenclaw, and Pansy Parkinson went with Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff, much to her displeasure.

Uncomfortably, Ginny stuck her hand into the hat and pulled out a slip. Nervously, she unfolded it and it read- Pansy Parkinson. In relief, she handed it to the Head Girl, saying that Pansy had already picked out of the hat. She nodded and took the slip, telling Ginny to pick again. Feeling somehow relieved and just knowing it would be alright, thinking she'd probably get Goldstein, but that would be better than Parkinson! Now almost lazily, she drew from the hat again and read the parchment with a mounting feeling of disgust and horror. Her mouth felt papery dry as she handed the bit of parchment to the Head Girl.

"Malfoy," she said quietly, and swallowed noislessly to clear her throat. "I got Draco Malfoy." Not bothering to watch her name get written on the board next to Malfoy's with the Head Girls crisp, precise script, Ginny left the room, feeling a presence following her. As the portrait snapped back shut, Malfoy steppd up to walk beside her then, then took a slightly longer stride to be ahead of her and swung about in front of Ginny, stopping her in her tracks.

"So, we're _partners_, huh, Weasley?"

"Looks that way, Malfoy."

"Oh sorry, Weasley, are you in a hurry to get back and be comforted by you Potty love?" he taunted as she tried to push past him.

"I _don't_ love Harry," she snapped back vemenously.

"Have you truly come to your senses, Weasley?"

"I guess so," Ginny said, just trying to get rid of him. He smirked at her and before her brain registered it he was striding down the hall in the opposite direction, towards the Slytherin dungeons.

Sourly, Ginny muttured the password and entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Hey, Ginny," Hermione said, looking up from her Arithmancy book, just as Ron and Harry looked up from what seemed to be charts from Divination.

"Who'd you get paired with?" Harry asked, seming to think this was a good enough excuse as he put down his quill.

"You'll never guess!" Ginny said, appearing very pleased and happy with the situiation. Hermione groaned and shook her head in a pityingly.

"What?" said Ron, looking confused, "Who'd you get?"

"Malfoy," Hermione said.

"How did you know?" Ron asked but before Hermione could even answer he shook his head, mutturing "slimy git" and asking Ginny if it was true. She nodded glumly and sat down on the arm of one of the Common Room's comfortable armchairs.

"I'm going to have to meet with him every Friday so we can exchange reports, can you believe it? And everytime he gives someone a detention!"

"You know what he's going to do about the detentions," Hermione sighed. Ginny nodded unhappily and fell into the chair.

"What's he going to do with the detentions?" Ron asked, again clueless.

"Well, he might just not tell me when he gives out detentions so I won't know and when the Head Boy or Girl sees his report with the detentions on it with crappy reasons, they'll wonder why I didn't do anything about them. Or, more likely, because he'll have less reason to get in trouble, he's going to tell about every detention he gives like he's supposed to, but give _tons_ of them so I'm constantly reviewing his crappy reasons and having to find him and tell him to take the detention back."

"Oh," Ron said, looking vaugely at the floor for a moment before shaking his head in disgust. "Stupid, slimy, git of a ferret. Hey Harry, want to play a game of Chess?"

That Monday night had passed pretty quickly, Ginny having gone rather early up to her dorm and lay in her bed until she fell asleep with Serena against the back of her legs. Tuesday dripped slowly by and Wednesday was passing just as sluggishly. Ginny stepped out of Transfiguration class, pleased to be the first one in her class to be able to transform a turtle into a tea kettle, and was making her way down the hall to lunch and walking past Gregory the Smarmy when something shot out and grabbed her arm, pulling her behind the statue, a firm, slightly calloused hand pressed across her mouth. She squirmed for a moment but realized very quickly this would do her no good and went still. She was released and spun around to see a Malfoy discreetly wiping his hand off on his robes, but not discreetly enough.

"Sorry, I didn't know, do I have a disease?" She asked bitterly, "How contagious am I?"

"Shut up for once, Weasley. I need to tell you something."

"And it couldn't wait two minutes so I could be happily sitting down at a lunch that I'm really starving for-"

"Surrounded by your gaurd dogs?" Ginny shrugged and said quietly,

"They wouldn't have done anything."

"No? Want to go and find out?"

"Oh, Malfoy, just tell me what you want," Ginny said in exasperation, leaning against Gregory's back.

"Well, Weasley, instead having to embarassingly hunt each other down whenever one of us gives a detention, I thought we could do it an easier way and already got permission from the professors that you and I could do this at anytime, in class or corridors, etc.," he said arrogantly.

"What?" Ginny asked in surprise. _Malfoy had supposedly though of an easier way to contact each other about detentions, and had already got it cleared by professors?_

"Yes, Weasley. Aren't we lucky," he said sarcastically, pulling out his wand. She stiffened slightly, and he laughed. "Afraid I'm going to curse you? At least you recognize my superiorty. Anyways, watch." He pulled out a scrap of parchment and wrote _Weasel is a loser_. He tapped the pice of parchment and murmured, "_Accina Ginny Weasley_." The parchment folded itself up into something like a paper airplane and zoomed to Ginny, falling into her hands. She crumpled it and stuck it in her pocket.

"I've seen that before, Ministry of Magic."

"That's where I got the idea," he rolled his eyes, sneering slightly, as he pocketed his wand.

"Why are you being so..." Ginny said, slowly, "I don't know. Obedient about this whole partner thing?"

"Because," he drawled, "I'm not going to mess up my being a Prefect. You can run to your gaurd dogs, now."

"Are you afraid of them," Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow and it was a very close thing to a taunt.

"What are you talking about, Weasley?"

"You caught me in the hallway because you didn't want to approach my friends at lunch. So you're afraid of them?"

"I don't like a fuss," he said mysteriously and she shrugged.

"If you say so."

"Oh Weasley. Weasley, Weasley. What would have happened if I had come up to you at lunch?" She arched an eyebrow slightly, again, and thought about it a moment. She could picture Harry glaring daggers at Malfoy alongside Ron. Ron would mutter worthless threats and curses which would probably get Harry riled up a bit too. Malfoy would have to retort or look like a coward. If he retorted, being a Prefect, there was more against him for being Head Boy. She shrugged and said simply, for the first time agreeing with Malfoy,

"A fuss." He nodded and was gone.

"Ginny, where have you been?" Ron asked peevishly as she sat down next to Hermione, quite late for lunch.

"I was...talking to Malfoy."

"What?"

"Ron, cool it," Ginny said, rolling her eyes and reaching for a sandwhich of a platter. "It was about the whole prefect thing. He thought of a better way to alert each other about detentions than running around finding each other, and he had to inform me, that's all."

"Well, why didn't he inform you here?" Harry asked. Ginny shrugged and Ron looked savagely about for Malfoy.

"He's up to something," he murmured, and Ginny shook her head.

"He's not up to something."

"What makes you so sure?" Ron asked hottly.

"Eat your vegetables, Ron."

"What?"

"Eat your vegetables," Hermione snapped at him before Ginny could repeat yourself.

"What's your problem? What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think it means to mind your own business," Harry said quietly, grinning slightly, but still looking darkly around for Malfoy every couple of minutes.

A/N: i hope who ever reads this thinks its at least alright so far...please review if you've read, thanks, i'd love to hear the thoughts from whoever's reading


	4. Reports and Retorts

+Chapter Four+

Reports and Retorts

_I got two more reviews! This is pretty much my first posted fic and i'm quite amused at how happy I get getting reviews. Thank you so so much _**GlassBroomstick** _and_ **Aelys**_ for your wonderful reviews. I was stuck somewhere in this chapter and I saw the reviews and just started writing again. I know this sounds silly, but thanks!_

D/C: blah blah, not my characters, Rowlings, blah blah blah

_And oh yeah, there's a sort of "dramatic scene" in the Three Broomsticks during this chapter and I hope I wrote it all right. R&R even if it's telling me its the worst fanfic ever, as long as you tell me why so i can try and improve! ; )_

It was finally Friday, and the last class of the day had been dismissed. Once she pretended she didn't have to meet with Malfoy before dinner tonight, the day certainly took a lift. Amazingly, she had no homework for over the weekend, except for a Potions essay, which she decided didn't count, because Snape was always giving you _something_ to do for homework, Monday or Friday, he didn't seem to care wheather his students prefered a carefree weekend or not. Bookbag slung over her shoulder she made her way out of the dungeons, climbing higher up through the castle until she reached the Fat Lady. Mumbling the password, Pumpkin Juice, she slipped inside and was greeted by Hermione, Ron, and Harry.

"Today," Ginny said, slumping in a chair, "was great. I got no homework, except for Snape, of course."

"What?" Ron said, indignantly. "I have Potions, Transfuguration, _and_ Divination for over-the-weekend work!"

"Oh Ron, get over it," Hermione laughed. "You've always breezed through Divination before, making up all your silly things about how you die, and in Transfiguration you _wouldn't_ have homework over the weekend if when Professor McGonagall gave us the last half of class to work on our papers you actually _worked_," Hermione finished tartly, closing her Potions book and stretching slightly. Ron frowned sourly and slammed his Transfiguration book shut.

"Let's go to dinner."

"Alright," Hermione said wearily, getting up and putting her book on her vacated chair. Ginny frowned as the four of them went back out through the portrait hole- she was going to have to met up with Malfoy soon. It was maybe because of this that Ginny ate two helpings of mashed potatoes with gravy, more than a few scoops of peas, and a large fruit cup of diced apples, pears, pineapples, and so forth. Dragging her feet she stood up long after Hermione had glared at her and Ron and left to meet up with Ernie in the prefects room. Ron followed her with a sigh and pulled out a piece of parchment with scrawls of names and dates and Houses next to short sentences scribbled over it.

"I, hmm. I forgot my report up in my dorm, I'll see you there." Ron stuffed his back in his pocket, buying time with Ginny,

"Oh, me too!" Padma Patil had never really forgiven Ron about the Yule Ball. Dashing quite slower than they might have if they actually wanted to get to the Prefect's room, the brother and sister made their way to Gryffindor Tower, Ginny truthfully getting her report and Ron pretending to have retrieved his. They left through the potrait hole again, this time down two hallways before coming up at the picture of the ladies, now sipping lemonade."Willow leaves," Ron muttured unhappily, walking into the room, followed by Ginny.

"It's about time, Ronald," Padma said. "I haven't all night."

"I'm here, I'm here," Ron grumbled, sitting next to Padma as he pulled out his wrinkled piece of parchment. Today the room had many small, round tables scattered about with two normal chairs at each of them. Seeing Ron seat himself next to Padma, and Hermione talking fast at Ernie, and Pansy and Hannah somehow managing to almost cooperate across from each other, Ginny also saw Malfoy sitting by himself at a table, books spilled across it, him not even looking up. Uncertainly, she sat down in the chair across from him but he was either ignoring her or didn't notice that she'd arrived. Quietly, Ginny looked at the books, wondering what exactly was going on. She saw a closed Transfiguration book with a mess of parchments sticking out of it, a volume of Arithmancy shoved to the side, and an open book before him which looked like it was for Potions, a long piece of parchment on the table beside it on which he was busy writing away on.

"Er, Malfoy?" He gave a slight, almost unnoticeable start and looked up at her.

"Weasley," he said, business-like, shutting his Potions book with it's essay tucked inside. He reached into his robes and pulled out a folded piece of parchment and slid it across the table at her. "Where's yours?" Quietly, Ginny took out her report and handed it to him, shrugging.

"I didn't give any detentions this week."

"Obviously," Malfoy drawled, taking the parchemnt, "I would've gotten a note. Unless you'd messed up the spell."

"It's probably the simplest spell there is, Malfoy," she retorted. "I mean, if you could do it..."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, sounding bored as he scanned her report. "Go ahead and try to get under my skin, Weasley, that's the poorest way to taunt someone that a person could buy." She shut her mouth and turned her attention to his report as he smirked at his play on words. His first student was Pansy Parkinson, awarded ten points to Slytherin for talking quite rudely about some certain other students. Disgusted, Ginny crossed it off with her quill. Surprisingly, the rest of the report was in good shape and Ginny didn't get to cross anything off on the remainder of it. Mutely, she gave it back to him and he gave her's back too, amazingly not giving her a hard time about any of it, just re-opening his Potions book and taking his unfinished essay out of it, freshly dipping his quill in a bottle of dark, almost black, emerald green ink.

"Malfoy?"

"What?" he asked shortly, still writing.

"Did you go to supper?"

"No," he said, turning to scan a paragraph in the Potions book.

"Why not?" Using his finger to mark a line in the book he sighed and looked up at her.

"Does it matter, Weasley? I'm just getting some work done, alright?" and he looked back down at the book. She fell silently and quietly pulled her Potions book from her bag also, deciding that doing her essay here in the calm quiet was better than going all they way back to her noisy Common Room to do it. He didn't pause in his writing. She opened the book, flipped a couple pages, and looked back up at him. Whether or not he was purposefully ignoring her, he was still writing his essay and not looking to see what she was doing. Realizing she had no ink, Ginny stretched and let her arm, quill in hand, fall onto the table, almost reaching his bottle of ink. Inching it forward, her dark hazel eyes darted up to see if he noticed. He hadn't. Stretching forward a bit more she was almost ready to sneak the tip of the quill in...

"Go ahead, Weasley. God, you can't sneak for you life, can you?" he asked, not taking his eyes away from his essay until he paused and referred to his book again. Slightly alarmed and guilty, Ginny dipped her quill in the ink bottle and neatly writing her name in the top right corner of it, beneath that scrawling: _Potions Essay_.

Silently, she wrote a few lines, scanned her book, wrote a few more lines, then sat back with a sigh.

"_What_ Weasley? What now?" he snapped, glaring up at her.

"What?" she asked, surprised, and looked about. Hermione and Ernie were gone, Padma was very busy writing on Ron's report, and Ron himself was glaring uncertainly at Malfoy.

"You sighed."

"Is that illegal?" He shook his head at her like she was a silly little child and went back to writing, and she stared at him after glaring at Ron so that he looked back down at Padma's unmarked report. After a few minutes of trying to keep going with her essay, Ginny sat back quietly, this time keeping her sigh inward, and found herself examining Malfoy.

He was nicely built, and his slightly calloused hand that she found herself remembering across her mouth, gripped the quill easily, smoothly writing word after word. The bangs of his blonde hair hung slightly in his eyes as he wrote, and the eyes themselves were intruiging. Normally they were a cold and stormy, a grey-silver painted closed door, laced with the cold hatred a closed door will give you, and even then they were nice eyes, if you only glanced at them, quick enough to not see that they're only a veil. But when she'd come in and almost startled him, when he hadn't known she was there and was concentrating blindly on his essay, when he looked up when she said his name and she met his eyes for that small second, they were not closed doors. _Closing_ doors, yes, but not yet firmly shut. His eyes were two twin worlds of truth and scary wonder that had Ginny dizzily confused and at a loss.

Draco Malfoy was enemy. Draco Malfoy was rude, careless, mean, taunting, and full of hatred, especially for her brother and his two closest friends. Draco Malfoy was empty and hollow. He was born to be a Death Eater. Raised to be a Death Eater. Destined to be one, and wanting to be one. He was emotionless and dull, and his only desire in life was a burning, ugly and barbaric tattoo against the flesh of his upper left arm. And that is all, Ginny told herself, almost done convincing herself when he interrupted.

"Weasley, what are you staring at?" Malfoy asked, closing his Potions book and stretching his arms. Startled, Ginny blinked, realizing that as she had been silently talking to herself, she'd been vaugely looking at Malfoy and he had noticed.

"Nothing," she murmured, blushing slightly and also closing her book, sticking it back in her bag and glancing at Ron, who was arguing with Padma about something she had crossed off on his report.

"Right, Weasley," he said. "I'm-"

"Leaving." Ron said dakly, glaring at Padma. "Come on, Ginny." Taking her report, the others following suit, she stuck it in a folder that had been left out for them to put their reports in.

"Alright," she said, pushing her way out through the portrait hole and making towards Gryffindor, hearing Ron jogging to catch up.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked.

"I'm just tired." Ginny almost snapped, finally reaching the Fat Lady. "Pumpkin Juice," she said, watching it swing open and going inside.

"What _took_ you guys so long?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Padma kept being pushy about my report."

"Yeah, Malfoy too..." Ginny lied. "I'm really tired, guys, I think I'm going to go up to bed." They looked quizzically at her, but none of them objected, so Ginny jogged up the stairs to the girl's dormitories.

"Hey Ginny, are you coming?"

"Coming where?" Ginny asked, rolling over in her bed, early Saturday morning.

"To Hogsmeade, of course." Hermione said, leaning over to pet Serena, laying at the foot of Ginny's bed.

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend?" Ginny asked, sitting up. She'd been saving any money she got for the past year or so, so that she might have a nice time on a Hogsmeade visit, someday. Getting out of bed she eyed the already showered and dressed Hermione and wondered what time it was.

"We're going to go down for breakfast and then leaving."

"Alright, probably about twenty minutes after you get there you guys can meet me in the Three Broomsticks."

"Okay," Hermione said, watching Crookshanks wander into the room and hop onto Ginny's bed. "Is this alright?" Ginny glanced at Hermione's cat as it lay down and yawned at Serena who barely cast Crookshanks a look, and shrugged. "It's fine. See you soon."

After a quick shower Ginny threw on her robes, and very hungrily made her way down to the Great Hall, quietly slipping through the doors and scanning the room quickly. She almost blushed again when she saw Malfoy glance up at her to see who was entering for breakfast and quickly looked away, sitting next to Neville at the Gryffindor table. As she had suspected, Hermione, Ron, and Harry had already left, leaving few people to their breakfasts. Scooping a pile of eggs onto her plate and grabbing to pieces of buttured toast she happily munched her breakfast as Neville chatted at her about next year being his very last year. Quietly, Ginny swallowed a suddenly very large, thick bite of toast and put her fork down.

"What's the matter, Ginny?" Neville asked in concern as she stared in blank, slight confusion at her full glass of orange juice.

"Oh Neville," Ginny said softly. "Next year I'll be in my sixth year, and you'll be in your seventh, your very last year. And then I'll be in _my_ last year, all alone. You and Hermione and Harry and Ron will be graduated, and gone, and what will I do?" He appeared at a loss for words and whipsered something about next year really being is _last_ year at Hogwarts and _what_ was he going to do after that? It ended up that Ginny was the one patting his arm and telling him it would all be alright. Picking up her last piece of toast, she made her way towards the entrance to the grounds and was annoyed to see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pick themselves up from breakfast and also make their way to leave for Hogsmeade, falling roughly in step with Ginny.

"Weasley."

"Malfoy."

"Going to beg for ink at the villiage? Or going with the perfect trio to visit you flea-bitten friend?"

"No," she said shortly, feeling a pang in her heart.

"Oh _right_, Lestrange killed him didn't she? What a mangy mutt. At least the Ministry does have to waste their time on him anymo-" But he was cut off by Ginny wheeling around and slapping him with as much strength as she could muster across his cheek. When she looked there was a bright red outline of the blow and she wasn't sure if she felt more giddy or scared from hitting him.

"Granger is that you?" he sneered, not allowing himself to react to the pain. "God Weasley, please tell me you don't also have a mudblood for you role model." But she wasn't listening, she walking fast towards Hogsmeade, fast away from Malfoy who no longer had her confused, just utterly angered. Eventually bursting into the Three Broomsicks she looked around and quickly spotted her three friends. Making her way over to them she sat down between Hermione and her brother.

"Is something the matter, Ginny?" Hermione asked in concern.

"I hit Malfoy." Ginny sighed, tracing her finger across the table top.

"You what? Go Ginny!" Ron almost yelled, beaming at her. Hermione seemed startled and Harry interested, maybe impressed. "What for, Ginny? What'd he do?"

"He made me...pissed." Ginny said simply. Uneasily, the other three looked at each other, trying to recall if Ginny had ever even said 'pissed' around them before.

"Yeah, he, he does that a lot." Hermione said. "What happened?"

"I was walking here, and him and his goons were behind me, and he asked what I was going to do in Hogsmeade...go with the perfect trio to visit our flea-bitten friend?" Ginny felt limp as she watched Harry clench his fist.

"And?" he said.

"Harry..."

"_And_?"

"And I said no. And he said, oh that's right, Lestrange killed him, at least the Ministry doesn't have to deal with him anymore...and I slapped him. His cheek was all red." Ginny cringed as Harry stiffened while she spoke and tilted her head on Hermione's shoulder sadly as Harry banged the table with his fist.

"Let's kill him," Ron suggested fiercely, looking about as if Malfoy might be in the Three Broomsticks along with them. Surprisingly, he was, and Ginny's stomach felt like it sank to her toes when she spotted him, laughing with Crabbe and Goyle and pointing at Harry. Unfortunately, Ron spotted him too, and knocked his chair over as he sprang to his feet quickly followed by Harry. "Hey Malfoy," Ron shouted, the tips of his ears glowing a fierce red. "Are you ready to die?" All the students in the room as well as quite a few strangers looked up at Ron. Those who didn't know Malfoy watched Ron curiously looking about. Those who did recognize Malfoy glanced at Ron in surprise, then curiously, expectantly, watched the boy with the platnium hair, seated calmly between his two Slytherin goons. Casually, he stood up, pushing his chair in behind him.

"Potter," he said, his voice quiet, calm, as he smirked. He glanced almost in amusement at Ginny, then fixed his cold gaze on Harry's glittering eyes. At the mention of the famous name, everyone except the students familiar with being around Harry stared at the boy-who-lived, some slack jawed. "He was only a _dog_." This caused slight confusion among anyone watching, but there was no time to even frown before Harry yelled and wildly drew his wand,

"Conjunctivitis!" he roared, wild silver sparks shooting for Malfoy's eyes, who through his hands up in defense. Blinking fiercely and trying to clear his vision from the spell, he pointed his wand at the blurry form of Harry.

"Densaugeo!" With a small bang a jet of pale yellow lightning was hurled at him and it happened to hit true, unlike the last time he had cast it at Harry and it had collided with Hermione Granger. At an alarming rate, Harry's top front teeth were beginning to inch past his bottom lip towards his chin. Hermione jumped to her feet.

"Stop it!" she yelled, pointing her wand at Harry's teeth and snapping, "Finite Incantatem," which had his teeth shrinking back to normal size. Harry ignored her and brandished his wand again-

"Furnunculus!" Apparently, this really wasn't to Draco's liking, who ducked and decided Harry's should stop trying to jinx him and cast his mind about furiously,

"Confundo!" he yelled, deciding to confuse Harry, but at that exact moment Ginny stood up yelling for them to cut it out, almost in unusion with the owner of the caffe who came bursting angrily from behind the counter, and the spell hit did not hit Harry.

Hermione yelled shrilly and Ron and Harry roared all manners of things at Malfoy as Ginny limply fell back in her chair, looking dazedly around her at her furious friends and the yelling owner, not understanding what he was saying though he was obviously shouting at a roaring tempo, throwing them out, dragging Harry and Ron, who were about to charge at Malfoy, and pushing them out the door, followed by a shoved Malfoy and Hermione, who was trying to keep Ginny upright against her.

"You can fight out there! Don't come back anytime soon!" the man roared, his larged Vernon-like face a Dursley-decent shade of violet as he slammed the door shut.

"Ginny are you alright?" Hermione asked anxiously, but for once not bothering with whatever answer Ginny might manage, she whirled around and slapped Malfoy, who was thoroughly done with being hit today, whether by a girl or Potty and Weasel, but not quite done with getting his own hits in, not that he had a chance. "What is wrong with you?" Hermione yelled at Malfoy. "Ginny had nothing to do with it, you did not have to hit her with anything! You are the most loathsome-"

"I didn't mean to hit that stupid girl!" Malfoy roared above Hermione's shrill yelling. "I was aiming for Potter when she got in the way!"

"Oh yeah right!" Ron roared back, shoving Malfoy. "You were aiming for Ginny, weren't you?"

"Why the hell would I aim for her when it's Potter I-"

"Shut _up_," Ginny moaned, and the yelling ceased, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looking anxiously at her.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked. His temper had certainly not abated yet, but he was forcing himself to calm down a bit for the sake of his best friend's sister, and apparently, Ron was struggling with the same concept.

"Yeah," Ginny said, still sounding slightly confused from the spell. "I managed to get a little shield up, but I'm still kind of...I can't really remember what exactly had happened, but my minds clearing up, it wasn't the greatest Confundus charm." Ron and Harry turned to glare and smirk at Malfoy at the same instant and he sneered at them.

"Because it wasn't meant for her," he said arrogantly, stalking off with Crabbe and Goyle who had wandered out to Malfoy during the yelling, cracking their knuckles, but unnoticed.

"Are you sure you're alright, Ginny?"

"I'm _fine_, Ron," Ginny snapped at breakfast the next morning. Her friends had forced her to Madam Pomfrey after going straight back to school, and the nurse had, as usual, reluctantly let her go in the morning. Looking up she saw Malfoy at his table putting down a half-full glass of orange juice, smirking as he said something and a group of Slytherins' laughed, but he somehow didn't look pleased. "I've got to go, I'll see you guys at lunch," Ginny muttured, standing up.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked.

"I'm just getting a book I forgot up in my dorm now instead of being late for class." Ginny snapped, swinging her book bag over her shoulder and marching back towards Gryffindor. Mutturing the password to the Fat Lady she ran up to her dorm and flopped down on her bed, pulling Serena into her lap.

"What's up with her?" Ron asked, looking worried at Harry. "It's Sunday, we don't have classes."

After a long, warm, boring day in which Ginny kept herself only in Serena's quiet company, and an almost sleepless night which seemed hotter than the day, it was Monday, and classes were back in session. The following week was quite tedious. In between classes, Ron or Harry would insist on escorting her to her next period, glaring at Malfoy each time they passed and hurrying Ginny along. It was Friday night again and dinner wasn't exactly quiet and pleasant for Ginny, who's head was beginning to throb with her three friends arguing about her as if she wasn't there.

"I think Harry should come to the meeting too," Ron told Hermione, who shook her head.

"Harry, you're not a Prefect!" she reminded him as he instantly agreed with Ron.

"I know, I know," he said, pushing that fact out of the way. "But _Malfoy_ is, and me and Ron don't want him to try anything."

"But Harry, Ron and I and probably a bunch of other Prefect's will be there, he's not that stupid!"

"He didn't even mean to hit me!" Ginny snapped again. "I'll be _fine_." Ron glared at her, Harry ran his fork through a small pile of peas on his plate, and Hermione huffed, putting down the rest of her treacle tart.

"Well, let's just go then." Hermione said after a moment. "Malfoy must have already left because he isn't here, and look Ron, there goes Ernie and Padma."

"Fine," he said. "Come on Ginny." Sighing, she got up muttured goodbye to a slightly left-out looking Harry and trailed Ron and Hermione to the Prefect's lounge. Once inside, Ginny scanned the room and again saw Malfoy amongst his books, scrawling away on a piece of parchment, ignoring her when she quietly sat down across from him.


	5. Ginny Sees His Eyes

+Chapter Five+

Ginny Sees His Eyes

D/C: you know the drill..Rowling's characters, not mine

A/N: sorry about the crappy chapter title ; )

A reminder of the end of chapter four: _ "Fine," he said. "Come on Ginny." Sighing, she got up muttured goodbye to a slightly left-out looking Harry and trailed Ron and Hermione to the Prefect's lounge. Once inside, Ginny scanned the room and again saw Malfoy amongst his books, scrawling away on a piece of parchment, ignoring her when she quietly sat down across from him._

After a moment of watching Ron and Hermione out of the corner of her eye, them watching her and Draco Malfoy, Ginny silently pulled out her weeks report.

"Here," she said, holding it out to him. He looked up at her and she realized, angry with herself, that she had been holding her breath for this moment. But the doors of his eyes were firmly closed into a silvery rain cloud and she sighed, knowing she would probably never see even a faint outline of something behind those twin doors ever again. Quietly, he looked at her for a moment, then, ignoring her outstretched hand with the report in it, he picked through his bag, pulled out his own report, and traded it for hers, scanning it quickly. Deftly, he crossed out one of her lines, which she managed to see was a deduction of ten points from Slytherin because Goyle had purposefully tripped a third year Gryffindor. She saw him writing besides it that he was there and it was purely accident. Sighing in frustration, Ginny read his report over three times, searching for something she could cross off with a good excuse as to why.

Smirking slightly, he handed her report back and took his own, walking over to put it in the Prefect's report folder. Ginny sneered at him and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"I'm done, Ron," Ginny said acidicly, and before he or Hermione could say anything she pushed her way out of the portrait hole and made her way back up to Gryffindor. The Common Room was filled with laughing, yelling students, pleased for a carefree Friday, but Ginny didn't want to be around any noise. Turning on heel she walked right back out of Gryffindor Tower.

"Why'd you even go in there?" The Fat Lady called after her crossly, since she'd been awoken from a nap to let Ginny in. Ignoring the crabby picture, Ginny walked down the stairs and back into the Great Hall. She was amazed that the Common Room could have been so loud when quite so many Gryffindor's were still in the Great Hall at dinner. Passing through it she burst out onto Hogwart's grounds, hoping for some peace and quiet. As the large double doors shut behind her, the noise was abruptly cut off and she breathed in the lovely smell of seven-o'clock at night at the end of September.

Making her way for a large oak tree, she sat beneath it and pulled a book from her bag when she heard a yell. Annoyed, she peered out from behind the tree towards the Quidditch Pitch, which Ron was jogging to, whom Harry was yelling to, the whole team seamed to be congregating for practice. Sighing, Ginny shoved her Herbology book back in her bag and stood up again. Casting a glance at the Gryffindor Team, she turned around and made her way back up to the castle. Again passing through the noisy mess of dinner time, Ginny found herself walking towards the Prefect's lounge and without thinking gave the group of ladies their password and went back into the room. It was deserted but for Malfoy and for a moment she glared at him, tipped back in his chair, reading his History of Magic book. Deciding it was better to be alone except fo a _quiet_ Malfoy than to be somewhere else, she sat down at a nearby table and opened her Herbology book on its wooden surface, pulling out a slip of parchment, her favorite quill, and a bottle of black ink, to start her essay on Self-Fertilizing Shrubs for Professor Sprout. About three paragraphs on with it and crossly scanning her book, an apparently very absorbed Malfoy seemed to just notice her.

"Weasley, what are you doing here?"

"I'm a Prefect, I'm allowed," she said automatically, not looking up from her book.

"Why aren't you hanging out with Famous Potty, Weasel, and Mudblood?"

"Don't call her that," Ginny said angrily, finally looking up at him and glaring. He was actually smirking slightly, and seemed amused. "_Hermione_ is doing homework or something, and Harry and Ron are at Quidditch practice. I just wanted some peace and quiet, Malfoy."

"So Weasley," Malfoy prodded, completely ignoring her requst for peace and quiet. "How do you feel about Harry being taken back onto the Quidditch team without anyone even considering the youngest red-head?" She blushed slightly and pressed her quill against the table.

"Harry deserves it..." she mumbled. "I can be on the team in my Seventh Year."

"For one measely year," Malfoy said, almost exactly what she had told Hermione those many weeks ago.

"I don't care," she retorted shortly, trying to get back to her work.

"Sure."

"What's your _problem_? It doesn't matter, Malfoy." Ginny said hottly.

"Oh, I think it does," he said in a quiet, almost menacing murmur. "I think you really liked being on that Quidditch team, Weasley and you really wish Potty hadn't taken it back without even talking to you."

"_Stop_," Ginny snapped, glaring at him. He leaned back in his chair, smirking slightly, obviously pleased that he'd gotten to her. Suddeny, the Portrait hole swung open and Ginny turned in her seat, hoping it wouldn't be someone loud and annoying because she really just wanted some quiet space to do her work, but she sighed as she saw who it was-

"Draco! _There_ you are, I've been looking all over for you!" Pansy yelled, rushing in and sitting at his table, pulling the empty chair opposite him close and sitting besides him.

"Hullo, Pansy," Draco said dully, picking up his quill.

"What are you doing in here? Why aren't you doing your work in our Common Room?" she whined. Ginny rolled her eyes and hoped Pansy, or both of them, would leave soon, setting her quill to her parchment.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Pansy said nastily when Draco ignored her and began to continue his essay. Without bothering to look up, Ginny almost smirked.

"Same reason Malfoy's here."

"And why's _that_?" Pansy said almost suspiciously.

"Getting away from our Houses," Ginny said innocently, re-dipping her quill in the ink bottle.

"Draco, is that true?" Pansy simpered, ignoring Ginny now.

"Yes," he replied tartly, scratching off a line from his essay.

"Oh Draco, what's the matter?" she wailed. "Was it me? Did I say something wrong?"

"Parkinson," he snapped. "You haven't been my girlfriend since our third year, three years ago, Pansy, get _over_ it and get _away_ from me." She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes cold but teary.

"Draco, you better, you just..." she trailed off, staring at him as he continued writing. Stomping her foot she tried to lean in but he pushed her away, and it was possible that Pansy might have finally taken the hint as she stormed from the room.

"That was harsh, don't you think?" Ginny remarked, laying down her quill. He actually looked up but she didn't bother to scan his eyes, having long given up hope that she might see something other than the cold, closed doors.

"No," he said simply. "We broke it off three years ago, she's still trailing me like a lovesick puppy. Do you like Longbottom?" His question caught her off gaurd and she frowned,

"No, I don't like Neville..."

"Imagine him following you around everywhere, and whenever you tried to hide someplace quiet he would find you and whine and complain and fawn over you?" She couldn't imagine it.

"That's different," Ginny said slowly. "I never loved Neville."

"It's not different," Malfoy retorted, "I never loved Pansy."

"That's mean..." she said quietly, but he only shrugged and dipped his quill in his ink bottle. Quietly, she watched him scratching his quill against the parchment of his essay and contemplated a great many things that were beginning to run through her mind. Finally, she sat back heavily in her chair, tilting it back on two wooden legs. "Malfoy?"

"What?" he asked shortly, probably only acknowledging her because he had to pause to scratch at the tip of his quill with a fingnail and then re-dip it in ink.

"Did you skip dinner again tonight?" she asked, unsure if he was going to answer her and growing annoyed as he continued to write.

"Yeah, why?" he asked and there might have been a hint of a challenge in his tone as he waved the parchment to dry and let it roll up upon itself on the table.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Breakfast and lunch, everyday. Weasley, what-do-you-want?"

"Nothing," Ginny said innocently. "Just wondering why you don't eat dinner." He paused from flipping pages in his Herbology book and stared at her for a moment. No one in his House, unless you counted the slightly obsessive Pansy Parkinson, had taken much notice, if any, to his absense from dinner. And here was Weasel's little sister matter-of-factly asking him to tell her why he had been skipping dinner. _Gryffindork,_ he told himself.

"If you must know," he said slowly, "nosy little Weasley, Quidditch practice has begun, teacher's are having great fun assigning loads of homework, though lucky for you this is probably just a Sixth Year thing, and Prefect's duties have gotten a bit more- tedious. So I decided since I've never been much a dinner person anyways, to just skip it and get all my homework done. Is that _alright_ Weasley?" he drawled. Ginny thought this just happened to be quite an alright idea, seeing as she too preferred just having breakfast and lunch.

"Yes, fine," Ginny said lightly, letting herself roll her eyes. He returned to his work but his mind didn't seem concentrated anymore and glanced up to see the little Weasley licking the feathers of her quill like a lollypop. Seeming to realize he was watching she blushed slightly and pulled another quill out of her bag, holding it out to him. "Sugar Quill?" she offered. For a moment he only stared at her with a slight note of incredulity and then shook his head.

"No...that's alright..." She shrugged and stuck it back in her bag, pretending to open her Transfiguration book and begin to read. Slightly annoyed now she turned the page and half-heartedly scanned the text. Ginny had realized this whole _partner_ thing with Malfoy was going to probably last the whole year and then decided she didn't want to have to deal with a year of fighting at least once a week with a Slytherin prat. So she decided to at least and try and be nice and _hopefully_ he would be civil, also. But so far, he was sneering, being sarcastic, or refusing any and all of her attempts.

"Do ou plan on becoming a Death Eater?" she asked abruptly and then bit her bottom lip, angry with herself for letting her thoughts slip out her mouth.

"What?"

"Nothing," she murmured, "I just, I don't know. Nothing." After a moment of silence and Ginny fiercely trying to read a page, Malfoy muttured a firm, almost defiant sounding,

"No."

"What?" she said, a little nervously.

"No I do _not_ plan on becoming a Death Eater."

"Oh, well, Draco, I'm really sorry, I don't know why I asked...Well...why not?" He studied her for a moment, face calm, eyes expressionless, but on the inside, battling with himself about whether or not he was going to open his mouth. She was doing it again. Asking him things no one in his House had probably even considered, making him want to talk freely. "Don't you, er, support Vol..." her nerves seemed to fail her and she shrugged, "_him_?"

"Yeah, I guess I support "_him_". He's got some of the right ideas, you know." Her eyes darkened and again he felt like he had to let himself keep talking. "But I don't want to become a Death Eater...an eternal _servant_ of some other wizard. I'm my own person, you know? No wizard I've never met or my _Father_ is going to make me pledge eternally alligance under someone else..." he stopped, feeling like he'd said too much and scowled deeply at her as if it was all her fault. Of course she had been listening to him and was quite confused by what she had heard, but at the moment, she wasn't paying too much attention to his words, because those she could ponder anytime. What had her staring at him right now was that the doors had opened and she was trying to drink in as much of it as she could. His eyes seemed to actually change slightly in color and depth and she saw the old hatred swirling heavily in there, but also his own personal confusion and desperation, at the same time a cool, uncharacteristic gleam of life, but the double doors were swinging shut, and Ginny took heart to the phrase "when one door closes, another door opens", because just as his eyes closed up completely and his mouth stopped leting loose the words that had sunk into Ginny's mind without her paying attention, the portrait hole swung open and Hermione came in.

"There you are," she sighed, coming up behind Ginny who turned around and stared at her in a way that reminded Hermione of a deer caught in the headlights of a Muggle car, of surprise and alarm and a subtle trace of innocent guilt. "Why are you in here?" Hermione asked, glancing at Draco Malfoy in slight alarm and slight suspicion. "Harry and Ron are back from Quidditch practice, we've been looking all over for you, Harry and Ron are in the library checking out all the shelves for you.

"Oh well, I'm just getting some peace and quiet in here to do my homework, it was even too loud outside with, with the team shouting and things. So I came in here and Malfoy was working too, so what?" Ginny challenged. Hermione looked slightly alarmed and Ginny was surprised at herself, wondering why today she could keep her mouth shut.

"Alright, sor_ry_," Hermione said, raising her hands. "We were concerned. Come on." For a moment, Ginny contemplated sitting there and refusing to go with Hermione, but automatically she put her things in her bag, slung her bag over her shoulder, and pushed out of the room, Hermione following her. Once they got into the Common Room and saw Ron and Harry get up from their seats and walk forward, asking where she had been, Ginny wrenched free from Hermione, who had begun holding onto the sleeve of her robe.

"I'm not a baby!" she yelled, and quite a few people looked up at her, but she didn't seem to care. "I was doing my homework, I wanted to be left _alone_, and as soon as you realize I'm not sitting quietly in the corner you have to send out the search party to rescue me from Dumbledore's big-bad-unprotected school!"

"What's your problem?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at her like she was a child throwing a temper-tantrum. "I'm fifteen, and that's not my problem, its your's! Will you _please_ accept that I'm not stupid enough anymore to get the life sucked out of by some stupid possessed diary and I don't need a babysitter here at school!"

"That's not what we thought at all!" Ron yelled,

"Then why can't you leave me alone? How come every year it's "where's Ginny? Hmm, how about we decide she's a silly little kid that got herself in a big nasty mess all alone at school and we have to go rescue her and interrupt whenever she gets some time to herself?""

"That's not true!" Hermione and Ron yelled in unusion and Ginny stalked up to her dormitory.

"What's her problem?" Ron said, looking around at everyone staring at him. Lavender and Parvati gave him slightly reproving looks but everyone else slowly went back to their work.

Ginny hurled herself onto her bed, laying with her face down, coils of dark red hair twisting across the pillow. _What is _wrong_ with me_? she wondered to herself, feeling the soft movement of the bed as Serena pounced up to sit beside her. _Why am I like this today? Is it true that peoples habits can rub off on you? I've never been around Malfoy much before, and now I've probably seem him for about and hour and a half or so just a little while ago, is he like this around _his_ friends? Does Malfoy have friends, or just body gaurds? What does he really think of his House? Why am I even thinking about that nasty git? Oh his eyes are lovely, he's a lot more than I always thought he was, I wonder if anyone else has ever seen his eyes like that? Oh but what was he saying when his eyes were like that? I have to bring that subject up again! Whatever it was...oh right...oh I don't think I'll bring that up again...My God, he _doesn't_ want to be a Death Eater! I never really though of it that way before, he'd just be serving someone else, I guess he really is his own person. Does he not want to be a Death Eater only because he's being forced into it? I can't believe it, his father can't make him do that! _Why_ am I even _thinking _about this? I should just go down stairs to the Common Room and hang out with Herm- oh no, right I can't, geez, what was _wrong_ with me down there, why am I like this today? _Can _people's habits rub off on you that quickly?_

In a whirlwind of thoughts, Ginny didn't notice Serena curl up right next to her and begin to purr softly, tucking her front paws underneath herself and looking quite content. Slowly, Ginny began to feel soothed and a little sleepy and by the time Hermione cautiously came in to stand beside her bed, she was fast asleep.

After Ginny had left, Malfoy found that he couldn't concentrate on his work. All he could think of was Ginny. All he could think of was Ginny and the things he had told her, when he should have kept his mouth shut. He had grown up with Lucius teaching him to block his mind, emotions, and pain, to keep his mouth shut and act smoothly. And in about five or ten minutes, he had told a little mudblood associater things he was not supposed to be pratting on about like one does about the weather when there is nothing else to be discussed. Restlessly, he paced the room, wondering what she had thought of what he'd said and wondering why exactly he was wondering about anything at all. Glancing at a small, hovering clock that was floating aimlessly near the portrait he saw he should probably get back to his House. Gathering his things he left the now deserted room and strode down the empty corridors. Reaching his House, having said the password and the portrait hanging open, he paused and glanced at the bulletin board stuck on the wall next to the entrance and stared in faint disgust.

Tacked up in between the list of the next three Hogsmeade weekends and a reminder from last week that Quidditch practice was beginning, was a large, bright notice and an attachment at the bottom of it for Prefects.

_October 1st_

**Christmas is little more than two months away, and guess what? This year Hogwart's is holding it's very own Christmas Ball! It even has a theme! The ball will be based on the mystery of Future Times, and though costumes are, of course, optional, we hope you will all have fun dressing up to this theme. The ball will begin at _six o'clock_ on _Friday, December 24th _and is expected to go on through the night!**

_**All Prefects will have a part in the preparation of this event and will please attend a meeting October 2nd, after dinner.**_

**Heady Girl _Melissa Gnuoy_**

**And **

**Head Boy _Avery Hugh_**

Draco Malfoy scowled at the large piece of crisp parchment, all thoughts of Ginny being cleanly cut from his mind by the upcoming Ball and one of the last lines- _all Prefects will have a part in the preparation of this event_. Guessing that this would have to do with partners, Malfoy sighed and finally went into his House, the portrait closing softly behind him.


	6. First Flicker

** +Chapter Six+**

** First Flicker**

sorry about this title...i've realized, you know, it has _nothing_ to do witht he chapter...huh

Ginny, aimlessly mixing her peas with her mashed potatoes, was telling herself that she wasn't avoiding being alone in the room with Malfoy again, of _course_ she wasn't avoiding him and the subject of Death Eater's and the possibility of see the doors creak open again, only to have a good slam shut. She was only, Ginny told herself, enjoying a nice, long dinner. Hermione glanced up and about for a floating clock and sighed to Harry,

"I bet they're all floating along in the outside hall, right now, Harry. I swear, you can't depend on any device that floats." Harry, quite used to this on nights of Prefect meetings, lifted his left arm slightly in the air and turned it so the palm of his hand was facing him, still reaching for a treacle tart with his free hand. Putting down her fork, Ginny sighed. She wasn't exactly looking forward to having to "_have a part in the preparation_" of the Christmas Ball. Hermione only pretended to need to see a clock (right now she was taking Harry's wrist into her hands and turning her head slightly to read the watch) when she already knew exactly what time it was, so Ginny took a last sip of her cold apple cider and was ready to go just as Hermione released Harry's arm, practically beaming.

"Ginny, isn't this going to be great? I think maybe the theme could do with improving, but Hogwart's is going to have a Christmas Ball! And _we_ get to help plan it!" Ginny resisted a frown. None of them had mentioned last night and seemed to be specifically avoiding anything that might let either of them think of it. Hermione ignored Ron's grumble and Harry's whisper to him, standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "C'mon, Ginny, _Ronald_, we don't want to be late." Ron rolled his eyes, but Harry only shrugged at Ginny, picking up his glass of Pumpkin Juice, even though it was empty.

Leading the way, Hermione made her way out of the Great Hall and towards the Prefect's lounge, whispering the new password (codswallop) and letting them inside. They were, of course, the first ones there, even Malfoy hadn't skipped supper to loiter amongst his books, except for the Head Boy and Girl, whom Ginny had noticed slip out of dinner while Hermione was gushing over the thought that they would be helping to plan the Ball, as if it was a truly wonderful thing.

To Ginny there was something almost sullen about Malfoy as he stepped through the portrait hole, but when she studied him closer all she saw was the arrogant boy she'd hated for about four or five years. Not taking any notice of Ginny, at least not visibly, Malfoy slumped in his seat and scowled at Hermione and Ron, then closed his eyes, ignoring the others as they filtered in from dinner.

"Now that you've all showed up," Melissa, the Head Girl, said, "we may begin. First off, does anyone have any thoughts, ideas and things?" As usual, Hermione was first at opening her mouth to a question.

"Well, of course, we would decorate the Hall, right? And red and green are Christmas colors, but wouldn't that end up representing two of the Houses? Or is it not going to be tradionalistic Christmas decore, but spacey-future colors like neons and such?" Ron stared at Hermione, and from his expression, seemed to be wondering why exactly it mattered. Melissa, though, was looking thoughtful.

"I was thinking just that, Hermione. Maybe some silver and bright neon greens and blues and such."

"And probably lots of tinsel," Hannah Abbott offered, "if it's pretty much the colors you just said. The tinsel would keep a Christmas spirit, but the colors and the way we could design could add to the future theme."

"Good, good," The Head Girl murmured, scratching away on a piece of parchment. "Anyone else?" The meeting went on like this, and even Ginny and Ron both made minor contributions.

"Keep quiet," The Heady Boy warned them, about to follow the Head Girl out, the meeting finally having ended almost a good hour later, "don't tell anyone plans for his Ball, please. We will all meet again soon." He left and the Prefects sat in silence for a moment before everyone began getting up, pushing in chairs, talking to others and pushing out of the portrait. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, Pansy, Draco, and Padma Patil, from Ravenclaw, remained. Padma, who had stayed to talk to Hermione, was heard almost regretfully telling Hermione she'd better be getting back to her House to do her homework and slipped out. This seemed to trigger something within Hermione and she turned to Ron and Ginny, trying to ignore a very upset seeming Pansy who shoved past them and slammed the portrait shut as she left, walking rather loudly.

"Ron, we have tons of homework tonight, let's go alright," she said urgently. "I bet Harry didn't even start! Are you...coming Ginny?" Ginny, who had been vaugely wondering if Pansy's departure had to do with a lazy, unconcerned looking Draco pulling out his books, almost cringed. She wondered if this was better or worse than them just coming searching for her later and decided, almost guiltily, to take advantage of her chance in peace.

"No. It's quiet hear, I'm doing my work in here."

"We could stay with you," Ron said quickly, eyeing Malfoy. Hermione looked at him almost scathingly and shook her head.

"No, let's go Ron," she glanced back at Ginny in an almost disapproving way, and, annoyed, Ginny slumped back down in her seat as the portrait quietly swung back shut. For the meeting, there was one table with chairs positioned around it, and Draco Malfoy looked up from his Potions book to examine Ginny, directly across from him.

She had pulled out her Potions book, too, and was brushing the tip of her quill across her nose in thought as she scanned one of the pages, a blank piece of parchment laying besides it. Her hair, a darker red than any of her brothers, was brushed impatiently away from a face but a lock of it had fallen away. He found himself watching her eyes, he couldn't exactly tell if they were brown or dark hazel, flicking back and forth as they sped across the lines. He frowned at himself and went back to his book but looked up at her again. Frustrated, he said,

"Weasley, why are you here, again? Day after day?" She looked up at him and also frowned, almost sternly.

"It's a really nice, quiet place to work, until you get started on me, that why," she said huffily, shifting in her chair. He sneered slightly and went back to his book, and sighing, so did she, but a few minutes later, she snuck a glance at him. His eyes were closed in a steely shroud, and there was something about them that had her shifting her gaze almost nervously away from them. Ginny then she noticed the look intense seriousness of his expression as he put quill to parchment, his white-blonde hair no longer sleeked back as he used to wear it until somewhere around his fifth year, but grown a little past the tips of his hears and falling slightly, easily, across his eyes, which Ginny lightly avoided. He was built well, and not only by way of muscles and such, but she noticed he had a nice, straight nose, and not the pointy chin she, for some reason, had always thought of him having. A little alarmed, Ginny scratched her nose and tried to return to her essay, which she hadn't really started, and began to scrawl out a few lines on the parchment.

Quite suddenly, the girl sat up in her bed. The light sheets were tangled around her ankles and her neck and back, as well as places like the insides of elbow and knee bends, were coated in a light, cold sweat and as the girl breathed deeply, she swept the curtain of dark red hair off the back of her neck. The other girls in the room were silent but for the deep, peaceful breathing of their peaceful sleep, which the girl sitting up in her bed slightly envied. Slowly, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and hopped out of it, cautiously making her way to the door and slipping out, wand in hand.

Ginny Weasley slipped down the stairs and entered the Common Room quietly. At one-thirty in the morning the room was deserted and quite silent, except for the slight cackle of flames as it nipped at the wood. She reached up above the fire place and slid her hands along the slightly dusty stone mantle until she encountered a small stack of parchment and a couple quills, alongside two tiny bottles of ruby red ink. Pulling something of everything down, she curled up on the rug by the hearth, the parchment resting on her legs illuminated in the soft, flickering glow of the flames. She dipped her quill into the ink and began to write, not thinking, just letting anything and everything flow through the quill.

_A whisper, a murmur, a breeze in her hair, _

_Lost in the shade of the oak tree's lair._

_Held close, held dear, in the shadows, the dark,_

_Captured, restrained, prisoner lark,_

_Sweet sound lost,_

_Glory gone..._

_Before poison oak seeps through,_

_That of weak life's cloak,_

_She'll sing one last, soft note,_

_Before warm, sweet blood,_

_And cold harsh life,_

_Mesh together in dangerous embrace,_

_For one last murmur,_

_One last twist of the kaelidescope, _

_At the hand of vengeful Fate._

Ginny paused and gazed at what she had written. Always, whenever she woke distraught, she'd follow the same procedure, don't think, just write, don't think, just write and burn, write and burn. She had never paused to see what she had written, scratching of the quill and singing of the parchment, but for some reason she paused. And Ginny's eyes drank in the words her quill had spewed, she was confused, seeing no distinct connection between the two short verses and herself. Hesitantly, she put the tip of the quill back to the paper and let herself slowly flow back into the tradition.

_Darkness. Cold. Intricate web of shadows and wood; branches and foliage, shrub and bramble, twists and tangles of vines._

_Tensed at the anger of fear, and the worry of loss. Tense. Anger. Fear. Worry. Loss. _

_A flash of illumination, and shadows leaping forth to greedily devour, biting ruthlessly. Light. Dark. _

_The moaning of the trees, seeking her, huddled on the ground, and malicious, deathly white spiders, crawling, crawling. Sought. Found._

_A flash of illumination, and shadows leaping forth to greedily devour, biting ruthlessly, but assaulted by a flare of resistance. Sparking hope._

Again, for the second time that night, Ginny paused and hesitantly surveyed her words, and involuntarily, a shudder crept up her spine. Continuing, after a moment, she picked up her wand. "Incendio," she whispered, a small, mellow flame appearing at the tip of her wand, leaving the wood unharmed, and touched it to the center of the page until a small, black rimmed hole had blossomed, and then she singed each corner of the slip of parchment, folded the paper, and made her way back upstairs to her dorm. Quietly opening her trunk, she pushed aside a few spare cloaks and placed the parchment in the bottom, amongst many others, before crawling back into her bed. She didn't fall asleep for many hours, staring at the ceiling, and idly counting the long seconds between the light snores of someone lying a few beds away.

Ginny couldn't help but stare. She snapped her mouth shut, lips slightly parted in surprise, and then wheeled around and marched out of the Gryffindor Common Room. She had never detested Mellisa Gnuoy more. She was quite worse than Hermione had probably ever been, Ginny decided, bursting into the Great Hall and colliding with a small paper airplane just about to zoom through the doors. It darted passed her but then turned noisily around, flapping around her head. For a moment, she was puzzled, but then Ginny's hand shot up and she grabbed the paper- it crumpled slightly, and she swore she heard a wheeze from it's folds- and opened it to read the message at its center.

_Weasley, did you see the notice? Make it 7:30 sharp, then._ Irritated, she wadded it up and let it drop into a small wastebasket near the doors and scanned the Slytherin table, then looked about the Hall, but saw no Malfoy. She seated herself next to a sleepy looking Parvati and Lavender for breakfast.

That morning, discovered on Gryffindor's bulletin board, was yet another note from the Head Girl. The ideas for the Ball were not sharp enough, apparently. The Prefect's were not focusing enough on the planning. Partner's would be working together again, and they would be assigned jobs tonight at half past seven.

In Transfiguration, Ginny was second in success of vanishing her mouse only to Luna Lovegood, who happened to have a knack at Transfiguration, which Ginny had to notice since the Ravenclaw's and Gryffindor's for Ginny's year took classes together. She was just relieved that her year, unlike Ron, Hermione, and Harry's year, did not have to take classes with Slytherin's, except for History of Magic, which did not much concern Ginny, for in this class, it was only long periods or bored half-listening to the droning of Professor Binns. In Charms, Ginny easily silenced her crow, and for Care of Magical Creatures, she was the first to cautiously volunteer. In Potions, she thought her concoction went quite well, Defense Against the Dark Arts slid by very smoothly, thanks to her experiences last year, and after a faint struggle in Arithmancy, it was time for dinner. Ginny thought it was a very good day, all in all, and refused to have her spirits lowered by knowing that after she had eaten, she would be getting assigned more personal contact with Draco Malfoy. It was a good day, it just wouldn't be a good night.

"Choose wisely, Ginny," Ron said, pretending to be very serious and grave. "You will have time but for one treacle tart before the meeting shall begin." Grinning slightly at him, Ginny ignored the treacle tarts and pulled over a small bowl of chocolate pudding. She had time for about four delicious, creamy, heavenly chocolate bites before Hermione dragged her off.

"I wasn't done yet," Ginny said, as Hermione pushed the pudding away and told her that they couldn't be late, but she got up anyways, if reluctantly. Upon arriving, Ginny saw that again, there was one table with chairs all around it; this time, Malfoy was already there, and she wondered vaugely if he'd gotten to the meeting before them, or if he had skipped dinner again. Pansy was stubbornly ignoring him, though Ginny suspected Malfoy didn't mind this much, and had even seated a fifth year Slytherin Prefect inbetween them. The young red-head sat between Hermione and Ron, glared resentfully at Melissa's back, chanced a glance at a passive looking Malfoy, and sat back in her chair. Her good day was taking a dive.

"Weasley, Patil, you are to work on the drinks and snacks available to students at the Ball," the Head Boy began as soon as everyone had seated themselves. Ginny thought this was alright- Ron had always had an thing for food, and while he may be too one-minded to consider what other people at the Ball might like to eat, and would think mostly of what he craved to have there, Parvati would not. "Macmillian, Granger, you pick the songs, bands, whatever, don't make it costly. Malfoy, Weasley, decorations..." he continued but Ginny was no longer listening when he said "Abott, Parkinson...". She had to decorate the Great Hall, with Draco Malfoy. She didn't know anyone she thought less likely to be seen looping tinsel, hanging baubles, or, for that matter, planning any of the schemes with her.

Pulling out of of her thoughts once she realized the assigning was over with, Ginny watched the Head Boy with very slight intrest. He held a small stack of parchment, and handed one out to everyone. Feeling Ron slump in his seat on her right, Ginny picked up her piece and scanned it, a small sigh passing by her lips.

( author's note: just pretend the "NA"s are students names. i have no idea who the 5th year prefects are since the book 6 didnt come out yet ;) )

**Monday**

Parvati Patil, Ronald Weasley: 6:30-7:00pm

NA, NA: 7:00-7:30pm

**Tuesday**

Pansy Parkinson, Hannah Abbott: 6:30-7:00pm

**Wednesday**

NA, NA: 6:30-7:00pm

NA, NA: 7:00-7:30pm

**Thursday**

Virginia Weasley, Draco Malfoy: 6:00-6:30pm

Ernie Macmillian, Hermione Granger: 6:30-7:00pm

**Friday**

NA, NA: 6:30-7:00pm

"Oh good," she heard Ron say quietly, and looked up slightly to see him double checking his schedule, and then viewing her's, as if to make sure they were the same. "If Malfoy tries anything, Hermione and Macmillian are coming in next." Ginny tried not to throw him a disgusted look.

"Draco hasn't tried anything yet, he probably won't," Ginny muttured to him. _And I can take care of myself._

A/N: sorry that it took sooo long for such a _short_ update. I've been overcome by writers blck! DOn't worry, in the middle of class, i'll supposed to be taking notes, but i'll suddenly have some great ideas for my fic ;)

I _promise_ my next update MIGHT come this afternoon, or probably tomorrow afternoon (todays the 10th), but no later than the morning of the 12th (before class)

There : D, now i'll be forced to get over the block wink and reviews are good double wink


	7. Holiday Decore

It's short again, I know, and i'm sorry! Being in highschool i still live with my parents and i'm grounded from the computer (see, they arent home right now :) )  
Please R&R, and i'd really like to know what everyones favorite chapter is! I think i enjoyed this one most because i liked writing a bit from Draco's eyes.

Chapter Seven+

Holiday Decore

Draco +

The boy's elbow was propped up alongside his mostly untouched golden dinner plate, which he had long since given up upon. His hand, with slightly long, slender fingers, cupped his chin, pinky finger running up alongside the corner of his mouth, set not in smile nor frown. His eyes, wreathed in cold silver shroud, were staring almost blankly across the Great Hall at Gryffindor's table.

Thursday had come and gone like any other day, one of dismally boring classes and tedious dealings with his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. Today, though, was slightly worse. First off, his mind independently ticked on it's nonexistent fingers, was Parkinson. He wondered vaguely if she was so incredibly stupid that his pressingly unhappy, rather disgusted, attitude towards her had rolled off her mind like water on a rain-coat, or if perhaps she perceived him as simply displeased and yearned to make up for it- whatever her poor reasons, he found her increasingly pathetic.

"Draco," she had simpered earlier on, in the morning, "won't you come have breakfast with me?" Her eyes had been a ratty mask of inviting pleasure, but through the tatters of it he saw what was almost desperation, and flicked away her offer in mounting disgust. She was, he had decided, like a bitch abandoned by her master, begging to be welcomed back into the house, to have a self-prided place on the rug by the fire, licking her paws and pathetically wagging her tail.

He dismissed her from his mind quite easily and found what resembled the relieving sensation of a weighted harness being lifted off his shoulders. Pansy was a nagging problem, and, unfortunately, while some mosquitoes could be slapped away and squished, others kept droning back for more, no matter how many times they may have narrowly missed a swatting.

"Oh Draco, _look_, how disgusting." Pansy was saying, pointing across the Hall to where Draco's gaze had been vacantly resting as he had wallowed in his thoughts. _Has she been watching me and seen where my eyes lingered,_ he wondered vaguely, and flicked his gaze up towards her. Her eyes were shining and he knew from her expression that she thought she was being very pleasing, making conversation he did not desire, following his every move. His eyes, darkened slightly, roved back to the Gryffindor table, following her extended finger.

"What a disgrace to purebloods, aren't they?" she said malevolently, her hand finally lowered, for she had settled for pointing her pert nose in the direction of the Gryffindor's. "Look, there's that mudblood Granger, sitting next to Scar-head. Thank god _he's_ not pureblood, it would be such a disgrace, Saint Halfblood," Pansy exclaimed, obviously thinking she was pleasing Draco. "And can you believe that Weasel and little Weasley are purebloods? Mucking around with filfth like Potty and Weasel."

"Famous saint Potter," Malfoy muttured to himself under his breath, and Pansy shrieked with laughter, though Draco thought he heard a distinct fakeness in her sharp, ringing tones of glee. This all reminded him of a second reason why today was not to be his greatest Thursday, besides the growing annoyance of Pansy Parkinson. This second reason was also a girl, though, just not a greedy Slytherin girl.

Ginny Weasley had looked up from her plate at a certain Slytherin's peals of hilarity and her gaze entwined with Draco's. His eyes were cold as usual, with an almost unexpected hate in them, and already the disturbance was wavering and the all-too-familiar wave of distancy washed across the twin pools, leaving nothing in it's wake.

Draco found a sneer lifting slightly upon his lips, and didn't try at all too hard to surpress it. She didn't need to be staring at him so, and he glared at her, but she only calmly gazed back at him in return. After a moment Ron looked up, and Harry glanced towards Ginny also, and they both followed her eyes, and immediately proceeded to glare back at him. Hermione looked up at Draco too, gave him a moment of her time, as if she had only looked out of curiousity and found him very uninteresting, and then turned back to her conversation with Lavender.

"Git," Ron rumbled, growling under his breath. Harry kept his eyes locked with Draco's, startling green and startling silvery eyes narrowing just slightly, pupils dilating just so. This went on for a moment until Ron, barely audible, muttured "git" again, this time with "slimy" inserted also. Harry's attention wavered, and school enimies broke away from each other's attentions, both pretending to be busy with something else.

Having looked away from Potter, Malfoy felt the only other place to look was his plate. He certaintly wasn't going to look at Parkinson, he figured it would only unnecassarily get her going again, and he had no desire to stare at or converse with any other Slytherin's, not being friendly with any of them, with the possible exception of Blaise. Idly, he picked up his fork.

_Ginny Weasley,_ he thought derisively. He had to meet with her tonight, at six-o'clock, and as if this extra contact with her just wasn't enough, he had to plan a Christmas Ball's decorations with her, too. Utterly undesirable. He slid his fork across it's prey slowly, and there was a small shrieking noise, like nails on a chalkboard, as the slightly pointed metal teeth of the fork scraped ruthlessly across the exposed plate.

Ginny +

Very much like Malfoy, Ginny was not looking forwards to 6:30, which she knew was in four minutes, since after every three or five minutes Hermione would inform her of how much longer she had to leave. Ron, whether he thought he was funny or not, had begun to, very annoyingly, interrupt Hermione only to say what she was going to say anyways.

"Two-," Hermione began.

"Two minutes to go, Ginny," Ron said quickly. He grinned at a slightly cross looking Hermione, and Ginny shared a small sigh and glance with Harry. Standing up, she glanced casually across the Hall, and saw Malfoy extracting himself from his table also. Not wanting to be near him unless she had to, Ginny quickly told her friends she'd see them in a little while, and slipped as fast as she could, without running, from the dining room. Once the doors shut behind her there was a slight reverberation and then muffled-like silence, the noise of the Great Hall cut off by the thick double doors. She began striding down the corridor and heard the distant noise of the Hall blossom and wilt, and knew that Malfoy must have also left the Hall. Finally reaching the portrait she whispered the password and hopped into the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Unslinging her bookbag from her shoulder, she quickly sat comfortably down on one of the two armchairs positioned on each side of a small rectangular table, rather like a coffee table. She pulled out a strip of parchment, a jet-black bottle of ink, and a quill, setting it on the table and leaning back in her chair, hoping to be the pure picture of utter calm..

The portrait swung open and she heard him coming in, heard the very slight sound of swishing robes, heard the creak and thud as the entrance swayed closed. He came up behind her and Ginny heard him pause, and she fought not to twist in her chair and see what exactly he was doing. After barely a seconds hesitation, he came into view from the corner of her eye and swept to the chair opposite her, sprawling down into it. He looked slightly tired and very bored, splayed in the high-backed, slightly winged armchair, staring at her.

"Right," Ginny said, wondering at the slight jump of her heart as she looked at him. "I guess the decorations are mainly going to be silver, neon green, blue, maybe red and yellow, right?" He stared at her for just another moment beore grunting (somehow in a very arrogant and Malfoy-like way) his assent. "Ok..." Ginny said, and scratched across the top of the parchment _Silver, bright neons_.

Her breathing was quietly fluctuating, rising and falling slightly irregularly, and she fought to control it, wondering if she was ill. Her body was awry, acting in ways it shouldn't be. She was perfectly still, but at the same time quivering. She was cold and hot, light and heavy. She felt clammy, but the feeling was wrong, as if it shouldn't be there and she had accidentally detected it, a lethal spy in her system.

"Er, and what kind of decorations, do you think? Tinsel of course, but would baubles create too much of a, a Christmas feel, or is that what we want?" She began to talk slightly faster, "I mean, are we going for the theme only, or do we want a definite Christmas touch? Which comes to Christmas trees too, unless we change the colors of them to go with the theme, which could be pretty cool, but..." She trailed off as he raised an eyebrow at her. He sat up slightly and leaned forward to be in better proximity to the table and the parchment. And to her. Ginny's heart twittered slightly against her chest. As he moved she noticed the fluid way his muscles rolled to accomadate the new position he was sitting in, and how as he leaned forward just so, his bangs fell across his eyes. Suddenly, she felt slightly more conscious of how her hair fell, how one of the shoulders of her witches cloak was slipped aside a little and the collar of her light blue tee-shirt poked into view a bit, how she sat in her chair.

Ginny sat up straighter in her, alarmed. She did _not_ like Draco Malfoy. She was ill, that was all. She'd gone out with Michael Corner and Dean Thomas and plenty more boys, and she'd never felt like this before. Except when she had crushed helplessly on Harry...but her mind completely disregarded this, since it was very unsettling, and certaintly not a pleasant thought. _I'm insane,_ she thought to herself faintly. _And ill. Very ill. I should go to the Hospital Wing. _

"Weasley," Malfoy said, or drawled, interrupting her almost frantic thoughts. She wondered distantly what she looked like, _Calm? Or agitated, perhaps? And why do I care?_ "You've wasted a good few minutes sitting there. I may as well leave, I have quite a bit of work to attend to, unless you're going to return to this realm, anytime soon." She glared at him, and positioned her grip on the quill.

"Yes, fine. Is there going to be any Christmas feel in these decorations? I think we should have Christmas trees in the Hall, as always, but magicked different colors." Ginny wondered how she had managed to babble all thise without even thinking, and remembered vaguely that she had said something very similar a few minutes ago.

Draco+

He had leaned forward to be comfortable but still seem authoritive, and she had stared at him almost in a startled way. She babbled and stammered, a very, very slight blush dusting her cheeks, and then had vacantly stared at the small table between them. He was perplexed. She voiced something about Christmas trees and he turned it over in his mind, picturing a neon-green tree stood next to a bright yellow one in the Hall, a blurry scene of other decorations, and he shrugged.

"Sure," he said, watching her scratch the tip of her quill underneath "_silver, bright neons_" and then he leaned back again in his chair. She glanced up at him again and he saw her gaze flick over his shoulders as he rolled them to get comfortable in the tall chair. Not much perplexed anymore, Malfoy was faintly amused.

"Weasley," he said arrogantly, a small smirk playing across his lips, "I know how wonderfully good looking I am, but might I suggest we get back to planning this thing?" To his immense satisfaction, a sort of horrified alarm came rushing forward in her easily readable eyes, and a faint blush crept over her ears to lay light, sinister claim to her cheeks.

Ginny+

Ginny was absolutely mortified with herself, and growingly angry, too. _Had I? Did I really look at him like that? Oh God, Malfoy? What must he think? What's _wrong_ with me? He's an evil, disgusting, arrogant, Malfoy-Slytherin, and did I _really_ just check him out?_

She knew she must have. The vision of it still lingered in her mind. The shoulder's of his robes had tautened slightly as he leaned back again in the chair, shoulder's rolling and she again marveled at how his muscles just shifted like water to accomadate him. His eyes had closed halfway into half-moons of steely silver but they'd opened again when he had finished leaning back into the soft cushioned back of the armchair, a second later. His hands had slid up the arms of the chair from the inside until they came over the top and almost-long fingers lightly splayed across the armrest. His hair fell across his eyes and all in a smooth instant it had been over. And then, he had mortified her almost to the point of when she had come downstairs to her kitchen, the summer she was going to start her first year at Hogwarts, in her pajamas, to see famous Harry Potter sitting at the table with some others of her family. In fact, it might have even passed that point.

Ginny looked up for the floating clock and quickly spied it hovering near the portrait hole, it's thin, intricate hands detailing 6:40. Ten minutes had passed. _Twenty to go_, she though miserably. Her wand was sticking tip out from her cloaks pocket. She touched it discretly, and whispreed a charm for movement, one of th clocks hands spinning winding quickly upwards to read two minutes till seven.

"Looks like time's up," she said, standing and stuffing quill, parchment, and corked ink bottle into her bag, slinging the lot over her shoulder. I guess I'll see you tomorrow about the reports, and er, next Thursday." She pushed open the portrait hole, paused slightly,and seemed to muster some dignity. Ginny glanced back at him, and then quietly fled the room, walking up to Gryffindor Tower.

Draco Malfoy watched her leave in high amusement and once she was gone, he stretched up out of his chair and picked up his bag. Then, he looked at a small watch on his wrist, hidden beneath the folds of his cloak, and smiled darkly to himself, and the two small dark red hands that pointed firmly at 6:42 pm.


End file.
